


The Desires of the Flesh and the Desires of the Eyes

by Magnetism_bind



Category: 3:10 to Yuma (2007)
Genre: Guilt, M/M, Whipping, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 12:13:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Doc, Dan's in no mood for Ben's talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Desires of the Flesh and the Desires of the Eyes

After they bury Doc, there’s something's off about Dan. He's gone even quieter than normal, stiff somehow. He doesn’t argue when Butterfield says they have to make camp for the night, head into Contention at dawn, just nods.

They build a fire as the afternoon sun shrinks into the shadows. The boy’s off getting firewood. Butterfield is sitting by the horses, not paying any mind to them. Dan's staring into the fire.

Seeing him like this, all quiet like. Ben doesn’t like it much. It’s better when Dan’s certain sure he’s doing the right thing and nothing will persuade him otherwise. This, this is no good.

"He shouldn't have picked up that shovel." Ben just says what Dan's thinking, bringing it out into the open.

"If he hadn't, you'd still be strung up, getting," Dan cuts himself off, looking at him. For a minute, Ben thinks Dan’s gonna say whatever it was he thinking back there in the railroad camp, when he saw Ben like that. There was something in Dan’s eyes then, and it’s back now, dark and ravenous.

Instead Dan just stirs the fire and murmurs, “That's what you do though, isn't it? Leave the dead behind."

"I told you not to come." Ben mutters. This isn't his fault. He warned them, plain and simple.

There's a fist tangled in his shirt collar, yanking him to his feet. "That's not good enough, Wade. Not anymore."

Dan exchanges a nod with Butterfield and then pushes Ben along in front of him, away from the fire. They walk in silence.

There's a dry deadwood tree half a mile away from the campsite and that's where Dan stops.

By that time, Ben’s figured it out. “You didn’t stop it.”

“What?”

“That’s what’s nagging at you. You didn’t stop it.” Ben chuckles. He knew it had to be something like that. “Doc was the one who voiced his objection and you, you just kept watching.”

The fist hits him solid on the jaw, fresh pain blossoming hot over a raw bruise.

“Shut up.”

“You liked it, didn’t you, Dan?” Ben presses harder, goading for more. “You thought I deserved it.”

To his surprise, that halts Dan.

“No, that’s not it.” Dans says slowly, like he’s wrenching the words out of his gut. “It’s that I realized you probably didn’t deserve it for that, not then, and I watched anyway. I wanted to see more.” The fire in his eyes isn’t damped down anymore; now it’s full blaze.

Ben licks his lips, abruptly aware that he might have underestimated the rancher.

Dan pushes him over to the tree, reaching for the rope he brought along.

“Gonna hang me, Dan?” Ben asks, mildly interested.

“Nope.” Dan throws the rope over the branch overhead, looping it. He ties it through Ben’s cuffs, hauling his arms up over his head.

He unbuttons Ben’s shirt slowly, surveying the damage to his chest. There are bruises, dark and painful, and a deep burn running up his chest. Ben hisses when Dan’s fingertips brush over his wounds. Dan just looks at him, then loosens his belt. The leather, smooth and worn from years of use, will bite like hell into the bruises. They both know it. Ben keeps his mouth close; he’s not begging for anything here and then Dan stalks around behind him.

Ben’s still processing that, trying to decide if he’s more grateful or just surprised when the first blow lands on his back. He grunts hard, pain ricocheting up his spine.

“It ain’t my place to punish you for your crimes. It’s not my place to look after you, Wade, but this, what you’ve been doing, “The belt hits lower, sinking into his back. “It stops now. Quit talking to my son. Leave him the hell alone. He ain’t like you. He’s never gonna be like you, so quit your talk.”

Ben chuckles, even as the belt wraps cuts into his skin. “I don’t think I have to work too hard to get him to follow me down that road, Dan. He’s already started it down himself.”

“No.” Dan strikes harder, forcing another grunt out of him.

“Yes, what’s more, when you look at me, you don’t mind it on me. You even like it.”

The belt catches the side of his hip, stinging razor sharp, and Ben shudders.

“Shut your mouth.” Dan’s voice is hoarse.

“I could say anything I wanted, and he’s still gonna grow up the way God intended.” Ben laughs.

The belt moves faster now. He can feel the blood welling up on his back, until the pain rises too high in his chest. Ben goes limp in his handcuffs. Dan has to be tiring, but he keeps hitting at Ben until finally the belt falls from his hand, too slippery with blood and sweat.

Dan crouches down to reach for it, and then just collapses to his knees, sitting there in the dirt.

Ben struggles to turn in his chains, looking down at him. “It’s not your fault.” For some reason he says it, instead of just thinking it like he intended. “None of it is.”

“Hard to believe that.”

“Doc would have come along even if you hadn’t.” Ben tells him.

Dan flinches.

“Maybe more people would have died, maybe less. You can’t control other people’s actions, Dan. All you can do is your best,” Ben halts, and then, “seems to me, you’re already doing that enough, why not ease up on yourself.”

“Why are you talking?” Dan asks bluntly.

“Stop worrying about your damn kid.” Ben says tiredly. “He’ll be fine if you leave him alone.”

Dan pushes himself up to his feet. “Shut up about my son.” He strikes Ben twice across the face. Flat, dull blows that make his head swim. Then Dan grabs his throat, holding him, fingers digging into his flesh. Ben just stares back at him until Dan has to look away.

Only he doesn’t. Somehow instead, he reads that look in Ben’s eye as a challenge, and moves in, all determined. Lips slow and clumsy on Ben’s for a second, like it’s been so long since he’s kissed anyone other than his wife; and then Dan gets into the swing of it, kissing him deep and hungry until Ben fucking moans into his mouth.

 When Dan pulls back, leaving Ben gasping, leaning in for more, Dan just looks at him and smiles. He doesn’t even have to say anything. He’s won, and they know it.

Ben keeps his mouth shut all the back to camp.

 


End file.
